


No Tricks, Just Treats

by smokeopossum



Series: Monthly Ficlets [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blowjobs, Closet Sex, F/F, Halloween Costumes, Unsafe Uses of Costume Fangs, these hands are only capable of creating filth, trans female characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 21:11:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13108596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smokeopossum/pseuds/smokeopossum
Summary: They did the monster mash.ORLena promised herself she'd never be forced back into the closet... metaphorically.





	No Tricks, Just Treats

**Author's Note:**

> realized i never posted this because depression
> 
> october ficlet & birthday present for my wonderful gf. skipped november because of depression.
> 
> please dont bother me about anyone being trans im too tired for it

The costume party had been Angela’s idea, as they often were. Not that Lena had anything _against_ costume parties, of course - nearly every birthday she’s ever had has been a costume party. Halloween birthdays just begged for that sort of thing.

Gabe was kind enough to help her get together the majority of the costume, promising she’d be the best looking _vampirate_ anyone at Overwatch had ever seen. When he was done, she thought she looked perfect: her billowing, half-open shirt was partially tucked into a pair of snug breeches, which were in turn tucked into a pair of leather boots that rose to her knees; a holster dangled from her belt with a pistol gaudy enough to make McCree turn his head, jeweled and pearled and polished to a shine, while an equally ornamented sword hung at her other side; her full-length captain’s coat and dusty tricorne finished off the pirate portion of her costume, and makeup had helped her achieve an undead pallor and a starved look. The last touch was the fangs, expertly fitted caps that Lena just-so-happened to have lying around that easily snapped into place.

She probably wouldn’t beat out Angela for best costume, not with her glowing eyes and horns and strangely lifelike tail whipping about, but she still looked _good_ even with her accelerator strapped over it, and that’s all that mattered.

She was making her way back to the party from the restroom when a mysterious hand snagged the collar of her coat and yanked her into a utility closet.

The dim lighting of the closet revealed its owner to be a ballerina dressed in white, familiar despite the swan mask covering her face.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” Lena teased with a fanged grin. “Thought you hadn’t come.”

“This is not a present I could give in public.”

She found herself being forcefully pulled forward by the lapels, the ballerina’s mask lifting as a painted mouth crashed into hers. Lena groaned into the kiss, hands automatically falling to the wall behind her as a nearly bare leg came up to hook around her hip.

“Eager, Amélie?” she managed to huff in between desperate attacks on her mouth - a scoff was her only answer as she was pulled back in. A hand reached up and knocked her tricorn off to bury in her hair, tugging as a cool tongue traced along her fangs with a discreet whimper.

Lena tore her mouth from hers at the noise, eyes sparkling.

“Oh, is that it?” she asked with a wide smile, then slowly licked over her own fangs. Golden eyes raptly followed the movement of her tongue, even as her partner pursed her lips.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Amélie finally sneered. The leg hooked around Lena’s hip urged her closer with a squeeze as she attempted to draw her in once more. Instead, Lena caught her wrists and pinned them to the wall, sliding a thigh between hers and pressing their fronts together.

An unexpected whimper escaped Amélie at the movement. Lena’s grin turned smug.

“That’s not what _this_ says,” she teased, rocking against the pressure beneath her tutu. She brought her mouth to Widowmaker’s neck to scrape her fangs along the cool flesh, immediately satisfied by the taller woman’s resulting shudder, and smirked as an idea hit her. 

She bit, hard enough to send the points digging into Amélie’s skin.

 _“Tu est affreuse,”_ Amélie gasped, a faint purple flush creeping onto her cheeks as her hips involuntarily bucked against Lena.

“Don’t be mean to me on my birthday,” Tracer mumbled against her throat with a smile. She sucked and scraped and bit until Amélie’s neck was a mess of navy and purple splotches, each tearing breathless whimpers and sighs from the taller woman.

Lena eventually pulled away to admire her work, releasing Amélie’s wrists to run her hands down her body and quickly finding her way beneath her skirt to knead at her rear. A strangled moan met her ears as she roughly squeezed the soft, cool flesh, fingers dancing below the fabric of Amélie's undershorts, and she couldn't help but grin. She returned her mouth to Widowmaker’s skin, this time wandering lower to kiss and nibble along her collarbones and the tops of her breasts while the taller woman let out pleased sighs and rocked against her. 

Sweat began to form down Lena's back; storage closets weren't meant for heavy petting sessions, and between their panting, the thrum of her accelerator, and the arousal coursing through her, Tracer was quickly tiring of her costume’s many layers. She pulled away once more (to Amélie's growl of displeasure) and hurriedly shrugged out of her coat, heaving a sigh of relief as the garment fell to the ground.

“Sorry, love. Can't all prance about in skimpy skirts.” 

“There's a costume idea for later,” Amélie purred as her eyes raked over Lena’s body with interest. 

Lena snorted a laugh. “Maybe for _your_ birthday,” she cheekily replied, and stepped closer to Amélie once more. 

Their mouths met again, rough and hungry, Tracer groaning against her lips as ice cold hands cupped her neck and jaw. Her own made their way beneath Widowmaker’s skirt once more, immediately sliding under the tight shorts below to grope and squeeze. Amélie gave another whimper at the action and jerked into Lena as she swiftly dragged the fabric down to her knees.

Her hands greedily slid back up her thighs, tracing the satin ribbons all the way up. Lena paused as she felt exactly how far they went, and pulled away yet again.

“You _didn’t,”_ she breathed with a grin. Widowmaker rolled her eyes as Lena immediately lifted her skirt and giggled at the prize she found.

“You tied a bloody _bow_ around it!”

“You said it was what you wanted.”

“I didn’t think you’d actually _do it!”_

Tracer playfully tugged at the bow with another giggle, grinning widely as Amélie hardened further. Her fist closed around her length and gave a slow, firm stroke as she leaned in to press a kiss to Amélie’s cheek. _“Excellent_ present, love.”

 _“Bonne,”_ Amélie gasped. Her eyes fluttered shut as Lena mouthed her way down her front and sank to her knees. _“Bonne fête, mon amour.”_

Lena smiled up at her and tugged her shorts all the way down before coaxing one leg to rest over her shoulder. “Lovely,” she sighed with a nuzzle to Widowmaker’s inner thigh, one hand holding up her skirt while the other playfully dragged along her shaft. 

Tracer eventually brought her tip to her mouth and gave it a gentle kiss before slowly sweeping her tongue around it. She moaned as she met wetness and eagerly lapped it up, eyes flicking up to watch Amélie’s face. Lena took her into her mouth and Widowmaker let out a hiss, twitching as her tongue swiped over her slit. Hooded golden eyes met hers, hungrily watching her play her tongue against her.

A cool hand buried in her sweaty hair and nails lightly scratched at her scalp. For once, Amélie was letting her set the pace, merely petting as Tracer took her time. Lena smiled around her as she started to suck, inching lower with every bob of her head. Her tongue dragged along the underside of her length, flicking as she pulled away and coaxing soft moans from Amélie. 

The tips of her fangs nudged at Widowmaker’s skin as she took her deeper, reminding them both of their presence. Amélie trembled and reflexively drew Lena closer with a whimper, violet filling her cheeks once more as Lena sent her a devious look. 

She backed away and flashed Amélie a grin, tongue extending to flick at her tip as she showed off her fangs.

 _“Merde,”_ Amélie whispered, fingers curling in her hair with a gentle tug.

“Didn’t know you had a thing for fangs,” Lena teased. She slowly tugged at her length and gently ran her fangs along her head, smiling wider at Widowmaker’s resulting shiver. “You like getting bit, love?”

She squeezed up to her tip and kissed down her shaft before giving her length a teasing bite, fangs prodding at her skin. Amélie let out a weak moan, heel digging into Lena’s back.

“Lena,” she breathily warned.

“You’re my present and I’ll play with you how I like.”

Tracer bit her again and felt her pulse in her hand. Her thumb rubbed at her wet tip and she let out a giggle at the glare her girlfriend sent her.

“Don’t you have a party to get back to?” 

Widowmaker bucked as Lena ran her tongue up the underside and briefly took her head into her mouth once more.

“Maybe.” She gave a tug to the bow at her base. “Think they’ll understand if I explain you had a gift for me.”

Amélie quietly cursed as she returned to sucking her way down her length. “This was a _terrible_ idea.”

Lena only giggled as she drew closer to the bow, fangs dragging along the sensitive skin. She moaned quietly as Amélie nudged at her throat, eyes fluttering shut, and finally focused enough to relax and take her all the way to the base. 

Her nose pressed at cool skin as she swallowed around her, holding the position to enjoy the weak moans Amélie let out, before backing off for a gasp of air. She returned right back to her, eagerly bobbing at her tip as she squeezed and stroked the rest of her length.

“Lena,” Amélie whispered, tugging at her hair. “Merde, _Lena.”_

She pulled off with a grin, tongue fluttering along the underside of her tip as she rapidly tugged at her. Widowmaker swore and jerked her head against the wall at the sight, hips twitching forward as she drew dangerously close to her peak.

“Hey, Amélie?”

 _“What?”_ she breathed, barely managing to open her eyes.

“I _vant_ to _suck_ your _cum.”_

Lena grinned widely and flicked her tongue over her tip as she felt the telltale pulsing in her fist, pleased to find Amélie cumming before she could stop herself.

_“Lena!”_

It was a mix between a frustrated huff and a moan as slick warmth shot onto Lena’s tongue. Amélie’s free hand flew up to cover her face as her hips bucked.

“I can’t believe you,” she moaned. “If it was not your birthday, I would kill you.”

Tracer giggled, happily lapping up her release and giving a parting suck to her head for the last of it. 

“Nah, you love it,” she said as she pulled away and began getting to her feet. She dusted off her coat and put it back on, gently tugged Amélie’s hand from her face, and leaned in to press a sweet kiss to her cheek. She grinned at the glare she sent her.

“You should join the party when you can. Think Genji said something about a piñata? But he might have been talking about Zenyatta’s costume... Either way.” Lena shrugged and replaced her tricorn with a tap. “Thanks for the present, love.”

She stole a quick kiss from Widowmaker’s lips, met only with a long-suffering sigh, before quickly stepping out of the closet with a spring in her step.

She’d have to run back to the bathroom to wash up first, of course, but she had a costume contest to go lose.

**Author's Note:**

> bunny: I'm pulled hard between mouth breathing and making a [Dracula don't suck joke](https://youtu.be/ZgZiBS64sC4?t=53)
> 
> bunny: It's Lena's birthday but she's the one sucking a dick  
> bunny: Finally a protagonist I can relate to


End file.
